SPN-Fanfiction - Ben in trouble
by spnfanfromeurope
Summary: This is between seasons 5 and 6. Ben does something really stupid, and Lisa insists that Dean steps in. No smut or ships. Some bad language. Triggerwarning: Spanking, with a belt. This is a stand alone story, as all mine are, but belong in the same setting as "Dean in trouble with John" & "In trouble with Bobby". (i.e. my abusiveJohn-verse). I own nothing, I just play with the toys


Dean had never seen Lisa this furious. It took him a while to make sense of what she was saying, but when he finally understood, he felt anger well up inside like a wild hound jerking on its leash.

"This is totally unacceptable, Dean. Ben could have been killed, or he could have killed someone. I told him that he was going to get a spanking for this, and he is in his bedroom waiting right now."

"You kept him waiting for it? Isn't that a bit hard on the kid?"  
Lisa huffed. "If you think so, you better get up there and deal with this, right now."  
"Wait, what? You want **me** to do it?!"  
"Well, was it or was it not your gun?"  
"Uhm, yes, but, really… spanking the boy, **me**?"  
"You are living here, being a father to him, so yes, I want you to do it. And you do it well, or I'll just have to do a follow up. I mean it, Dean, I'm not kidding here!"  
"Lisa, come on. I really don't think…"  
"There has been enough non-thinking around here, or he would never have gotten his hands on a damn gun in the first place."  
"Yes, that's on me, I know, Lisa. But come on, are you really sure? Can't we just, I don't know, ground him or something?"  
"No. I told Ben he was going to get a spanking, and he is going to get one. If you refuse, I'll do it myself, but, Dean, this one is on you, and you know it! This is serious and there has to be a punishment that matches the crime!"

Dean walked in an agitated circle on the floor, rubbing his hand through his hair.  
"Fuck. **Fuck**. Ok, then, ok."  
He started towards the stairs, but Lisa grabbed his arm, pulling him around to face her. Her hands went to his belt. In quick, sure motions, she opened the belt buckle ripping the belt free. She lashed onto his wrist, lifted his hand and slapped the belt into it.

"You lay that on him, and you do it good enough, you don't have to do it again, you hear me, Dean Winchester?"  
Dean looked at her with startled eyes.  
"Yes Ma'am, " he said simply, then spun on his heel and went upstairs to confront the boy he couldn't help hope was truly a son in more than heart.

When the door opened, Ben stood up from the old armchair next to his bed, surprised to see Dean enter instead of his mom.

"Is Mom coming up?"  
"Nah… not unless you want her to?"  
" **No** , no..."  
Ben's eyes went to the belt, dangling at Dean's side, and he gulped nervously.  
"… wait... Mom is making **you** do it?"  
"Yeah."

Dean plopped down in the chair, Ben had just vacated, messed his hand through his hair again and nodded morosely.

"She must be really pissed off, on both of us, if she's making **you** do it," Ben whispered.  
"Oh, yeah, she is. But, Ben, she has reason to be. You know that, right?  
"It was an accident. I didn't think it would be loaded, I just thought it was really cool and…."

Dean sprang from the chair cursing. He walked a little away, then spun towards Ben, who took an involuntary step backwards as the big man bore down on him.

"Rule number one of gun safety, repeat after me: Always treat a gun as if it is loaded!"  
"A...a...always treat a gun as if it is loaded."

"Rule number two: never point a gun at anything, you don't intend to shoot. **Repeat**."  
"Never point a gun at anything you don't intend to shoot."

"Rule number three: keep your finger away from the trigger unless you are ready to shoot."  
"Keep your finger away from the trigger unless you are ready to shoot."

"Rule number four: keep your damn fool hands off my guns unless I've said you can touch!"  
"Don't touch your guns, ok, I've got it… I'm sorry, Dean, I really am, please..."

Dean leaned back, getting out of Ben's personal space, at least far enough that the boy could think again. He'd never before fully realized, how big this man was, who had shown up at their door all of a sudden and had carefully worked his way into their home and their hearts.

"Ok, then. I expect you to remember those, and repeat them to me tomorrow when we go to the gun range."  
"Yes, Dean… what? The gun range? Really? You'll take me? Is Mom letting me learn how to shoot?"  
"Since you will be living with guns in the house, you better learn how to be safe around them. I'll talk to your mom about it."

There was silence for a while in the room, then Ben swallowed and asked quietly:  
"Are, are you… gonna whip me now?"  
"Huh? Oh. Yes. Uhm… yeah, we better…. Your mom really was very mad… uhmm... you ever get the belt before, kid?"  
"No." Ben gulped again. "Mom's used a spoon a few times. That hurts. A lot. Is… is… the belt worse?"  
"Yeah, I guess… I mean… I've never been whacked with a spoon, so I can't really say, but… yeah..."  
Ben tilted his head curiously.  
"But you got the belt as a kid?"  
Dean made a snorting sound and nodded.  
"Oh, yeah, I got the belt."  
"For what?"  
"Everything, kid, everything..."

Ben took a deep breath and straightened his back:  
"Can we get it over with then, please, Dean?"  
"Yes, yes, ok…. uhm…."  
"Uhm… my mom... she… uhm… "  
"I can go get her, if you'd rather, she…."  
" **NO** , no, I'm glad it's you…"

"What?"  
Dean frowned.  
"Listen, Ben, does…. Uhm… does your mom… when she… does she spank you a lot?"  
"No, it's only been a few times, why?"  
"Is she… does she… is it bad, you know, like really bad when she does? Uhm... is she… real angry… uhm... how… where does she hit you?"  
"She's only done it when she was really mad, I mean she'll send me up here to wait until she calms down, I really hate waiting... and it hurts – that spoon is murder on an … uhm... butt, but then she hugs me and says it's all over and… so... uhm… why are you asking?"  
"You said you'd rather me than your mom, so I just wondered if…"  
"Oh."  
Ben's face went an interesting shade of red.  
"It's just… Mom makes me take my pants and boxers off and I have to lie over her knee, and it's…"  
He stopped, a look of horror flitting over his face:  
"Are you gonna make me…."  
" **NO!** Gods. **No** …. uhm… ok… just…. just lie down on the bed, ok?"

Ben obediently went over to the bed, and pushed the blankets off to the side, before he lay down on his belly, looking up at Dean over his shoulder  
"Like this?"  
"Yeah, that's fine… just… grab a pillow or something, mm'k? Its better to have something to hold onto, ya know?"

Frowning, Ben grabbed his pillow and pulled it towards his head.  
Dean took a deep breath, doubled the belt up and brought it down briskly on the boy's bottom.  
Ben wheezed, but didn't move, so Dean did it again, a little harder this time. Ben gave a strangled yelp, and scissored his legs.  
The third stroke was a bit harder again, and it came right after the second one, startling a yell out of the boy.

Dean's world flashed white and there was a loud clanging in his head, like church bells rung by a crazy monk on steroids.  
He could smell cheap booze, stale smoke, old leather and the metallic tang of blood.  
His back twanged with remembered pain.  
In his ears, he heard the patented John Winchester growl: "I told ya to take care of Sammy, boy."

He shook his head frantically, trying to scare away the flies of a lifetime of memories, that was buzzing around in his mind.  
Abruptly he lifted his arm, swung the belt all the way over his shoulder, then brought it back down with every ounce of power he had.  
It sang through the air like a peregrine falcon diving for its prey and crashed down, the sound thundering around the room.

Ben jerked at the sound, then lifted his head, looking over his shoulder at Dean with an expression of almost comical surprise. Dean lifted the belt again, looked at Ben and snarled:  
"Yell, dammit."  
He brought the belt down again in another almighty crash, once again making a cloud of dust raise from the old chair next to Ben's bed.

Ben looked at him in frozen confusion:  
"Uhm, Dean… wha'?"  
Dean stared back long enough to growl:  
"Shut up and yell, ferchrissake."

He hit the chair for the third time. Ben finally got the idea and yelped loudly.  
Dean removed more dust from the poor old chair and Ben yelped along as best he could, the feeling of confusion deepening for each whack of the belt.  
After about 10 strokes, Dean stopped, huffed a bit, then shook his head. Rubbed a hand through his hair, making it stick up porcupine-like.

"Alright. That must be good enough. Now, you: Stay. You're grounded. Stay in your room, ya hear?"  
"Yes, Dean. Ok... and… Uhm... thanks?"  
"Yeah, yeah, whatever…. Just remember what I said, ok… keep your paws off my guns!"  
"Yes, sure, I will, I promise."  
Ben answered quickly, still feeling rather rattled from the unexpected turn of events.

Dean came stalking into the kitchen.  
Lisa had never seen him with that look on his face. He seemed to be oscillating wildly between sheer rage, pure fear, and dogged determination. He stomped all the way up to her, leaned down into her face and cut her off rudely, when she tried to ask if Ben was ok.  
She'd heard the smacks of leather, heard her son yelling, and was starting to regret making Dean use his belt on the boy. She didn't get to ask, though, because Dean was as unstoppable as a force of nature in that moment.

"You said there needed to be a punishment to fit the crime! Well, then. **Here!** "  
He thrust the belt into her hand, just as she had done to him, before sending him upstairs to Ben.

"What?"  
Lisa looked up at him completely perplexed.  
"It was my gun, he got a hold on. My loaded gun. I know better than to keep a loaded gun, where a kid can get at it. I **should** know better. So, if he gets the belt, so should I!"  
Lisa took a step back, "But... but... I can't do that to you."  
"Why not? You thought it fitting for your son."  
"Yes, but, you... you... you are an adult… I can't…"  
"You made me do it to Ben, you can do it to me, then."  
"But, he's a kid and you…."  
"Exactly... he's a kid! Just a kid! A curious kid. Any boy that age is fascinated with guns… This one is on me, and I swear to you, Lisa, you're gonna do this… you started it, now you finish it, ya hear me?"

Dean suddenly roared at her:  
"Ben could have been killed, he could have killed someone! It was pure luck, that he just took out that window next door. Their kid could have been in that room!"

With that, he spun around, tore his jeans open, thrust them down to his knees and more or less threw himself onto the kitchen counter next to the stove, tall enough to reach down and grab the handle of one of the drawers on the other side.

Lisa stared at him, open mouthed for an instant, then all the worry, fear, anger and outright terror of the afternoon came racing up inside her. For a precarious moment, she felt an unbearable tension, like a volcano about to erupt, then the burning lava of her rage flowed through her head and spewed into the air. She grabbed the belt buckle tightly, swinging the free end of the belt with all her might onto the target presented before her.

There was a slight jerk, but no other reaction.  
More anger surged through her. She had hit him damn hard, how dared he not even respond?  
She swung again and again, mindlessly.  
It took more swings than she cared to remember later on before she forced a response from the man in front of her, but, finally, she heard him make a sound somewhere between a whimper and a sob.  
It made her stop and actually look at his body.  
He was shaking from head to toe, and she could see the welts, she'd made, running across his upper thighs, disappearing under his boxer briefs. Knew that under the thin cotton his skin must be a mass of painful stripes.  
The last remnants of anger fled her mind, leaving only a hollow horror behind.  
Oh, god, what had she done? Did her son look like that right now?  
She threw the belt at Dean, feeling desperate tears start to fall.

" **Damn** you, Dean Winchester. Damn you to Hell and back again."

Dean shuddered, then slowly stood up, wiping a hand over his face as he did. He looked at her seriously.  
"Already been, didn't agree with me."

To her amazement he gave her the crooked smile, she had fallen for more than a decade ago.  
"Why did you do that, Dean? Why'd you make me do that?" Lisa almost wailed.

Dean gingerly pulled up his jeans, then leaned a hip against the counter, careful not to let his ass touch anything.  
"Well, for one thing… I kinda deserved it. For another, **you** deserved it for making me and Ben go through it… you never had the belt yourself, did ya?"  
"No, no. My parents didn't spank much, and when they did, they believed more in hands and hairbrushes."  
"Ok, then, well, now you know why, when I tell you that there will be no more spankings in this house as long as I'm around. If Ben does something dumb. And he's a boy. He'll be bound to do something stupid sooner or later. We'll find some other way to punish him. Ok?"  
Dean looked through the door, up the stairs.  
"Ok, Ben? And just come on down, I know you're there."

Lisa spun around, but Dean was right. Ben came into the kitchen, red-faced and teary-eyed, completely shaken by the scene he'd just witnessed the last moments of, drawn in by curiosity at the sounds from downstairs.

Dean wrapped his arms around Lisa, gave her a sound kiss, then reached out to pull Ben into the hug too.  
They stood close together for long enough to make Ben relax completely, leaning into the two most important people of his young life. Then Dean moved back a little, and looked from one face to another, saying firmly:  
"Ok, clean slate, forgiveness all around, done and over, and not ever happening again, fair?"

"Cool, "Ben piped up, sounding much happier, although still a bit bemused.

Lisa nodded, wiping tears from her face, glad to see that Ben seemed fine, even if he obviously had gotten a lot to think about.

"Oh, and Lisa, we are going to the gun range tomorrow. No protests, I want both of you able to handle a gun safely, ok?"

Lisa wasn't thrilled, but she could see the point, as long as Dean Winchester was in her life, and she hoped he would be for a long time, guns would be part of her life too. Besides, she had a feeling that she owed him something, a lot, after the lesson he had taught the whole family tonight. She would give him this, at least.


End file.
